


Not the time or place

by newtgottlaid



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: A healthy dose of yearning, Blowjobs, First of all scientific conferences make me horny so I’m sorry for that, M/M, Newt nuts twice because it’s what he deserves, Pre-Relationship, Sex in uhhh inappropriate locations, They're extremely in love but they just don’t know it yet, thigh humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtgottlaid/pseuds/newtgottlaid
Summary: Everyone's favorite K-Scientists are at the Kaiju Research Society's annual conference... but... Newt's bored.....
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101





	Not the time or place

**Author's Note:**

> No proof-reading we die like stem majors

Hermann's hand reaches out and all but slaps the pen out of Newt's grip. "Cut that out."

Newt rolls his eyes and keeps clicking the pen. This talk on kaiju bone biology has been dragging on for what feels like hours. This isn't Newt's first conference, it's not even in his first _ten_ conferences, but he's bored out of his mind and squirming in his seat and this panel seems more boring than usual. This is why he took so many of his classes online, Newt thinks, because he doesn't have the fucking patience for lectures. He usually spends his time at these things bouncing from room to room eating the free snacks and stealing pens from the exhibitors' tables. He pays attention to the science too, of course, but, like, he's the world's leading expert on kaiju and there's not much he doesn't already know.

Hermann shoots him another glare when he twirls his pen around his fingers and accidentally sends it flying into the lap of the woman sitting across the aisle. Hermann, obviously, has done an excellent job of sitting still and pretending to be interested in a subject Newt knows he doesn't give a flying fuck about. They're only here because Hermann is giving a talk the next day in the same room and Newt wanted to scope out the seating situation. Read: Newt wanted to see if the exits were placed inconspicuously enough that he can sneak in for just Hermann's talk and sneak right back out. Spoiler alert, they aren't, and now they're stuck in here for another hour listening to a bunch of barely-qualified post-docs stumble through their slides on kaiju blue exposure, bone biology and— Newt checks his program to see what the next talk is on— current methods in kaiju tissue culturing. Fuck. 

He slouches in his chair and leans his head onto Hermann, who is doodling on a legal pad that looks like it's from the seventies. "Could you _please_ be professional?" Hermann hisses.

"I'm bored," Newt whines, "I published a paper on this stuff like, two years ago."

Hermann checks his watch and lifts an eyebrow at him. "Only an hour and forty-nine minutes to go."

Newt ignores the sarcastic tone. "What are you drawing?" He snatches the notepad. It's covered in doodles of planets and rocketships. "God, you are _such_ a nerd." He reaches over and grabs Hermann's pencil. He flips to a new page.

_I'm soooooo bored :(_

He slides the notepad back to Hermann, who reads it and audibly sighs. Thirty seconds pass— then Hermann rolls his eyes, plucks his pencil back out of Newt's hand, scrawls something quickly, and passes the paper back. 

It's a tic-tac-toe board with an x in the center square. Fucking finally.

Sixteen games later (Newt's won seven, Hermann’s won nine), the tip of Hermann’s pencil breaks. Newt lets out a pathetic little cry and looks up at Hermann with pleading eyes. His only pen, bless its heart, is still across the aisle where the woman he flung it at had knocked it to the floor with a glare. Hermann only shrugs.

Newt pushes Hermann’s blazer up his arm to check his watch, then falls back in his chair with a groan. “I’m not going to make it, dude. I’m really not.” 

”Do stop being dramatic, Newton,” Hermann says, “this is her last slide.” 

Bone Biology Girl leaves the podium, with a round of exhausted applause from the audience, and the next speaker takes the stage. 

“Isn’t that—“

“Oh my god, it’s that fucking guy!” Newt exclaims. “That— you know, that guy!” People are starting to look their way; Newt lowers his voice. “Remember, last year?”

Hermann actually looks almost-sympathetic. “Yes, Newton, I re—”

Newt interrupts him again. “I _cannot_ believe he has the balls to present on this shit after all the trouble he went through to drag _me_ , me!— for my paper on ammonia-free culturing methods, I mean,” he lets out a sigh. “This is bullshit, man. That’s all I’m saying.” 

Hermann reaches over and awkwardly gives Newt’s leg a little pat.

For all his complaining about it, Newt finds that the final talk goes by fairly quickly. Hermann, of course, has to literally hold Newt back from running up to the audience microphone to ask some _very_ pointed questions afterwards, but all in all, it could have been a lot worse. 

That is, until the speaker decides to sarcastically thank “one kaiju biologist, in particular” for inspiring him to present his work and— that’s it, Newt’s leaving. 

Hermann follows him out the door (as fast as he can, what with his cane and the overstuffed messenger bag Newton left behind) and finds him furiously pacing the hallway outside. 

“God, Herms,” Newt is on the verge of cry-laughing, “that was so embarrassing.” 

Hermann hands Newt his bag with a sympathetic frown. “If it means anything to you, I—" he starts, "well, Newton, frankly, I didn’t think his research was all that good.” 

Newt gives a sad smile. "Thanks, buddy. I'm being stupid, it's just—" he sighs and rolls his eyes, "just like, ugh, fuck me, you know." 

Hermann gives a little chuckle despite himself. "This really isn't the place."

"Ha." Newt sniffles. "As if there _is_ a place."

Hermann gives Newt a long look.

"Holy shit," Newt breathes, "you're totally fucking with me right now." 

Hermann keeps staring.

"Hermann. Herms. You can't joke about this with me, you know that." Newt is becoming unhinged. People are starting to file into the hallway, the panel is over, they have about five more seconds of privacy before—

Hermann looks down at the ground, and when he looks back up, he's blushing. 

No fucking way. 

It's not like Newt hasn't thought about having sex with Hermann before. In fact, he even drunkenly propositioned him once (although the night ended with Hermann chastely tucking Newt into bed with a cup of Emergen-C and decidedly No Sex). It's just that Hermann has always been an absolute enigma to Newt— so close and yet so indescribably inaccessible. After the one drunken incident he never pressed the issue for fear of destroying the one good friendship he's had in his life... although that hasn't stopped him from fantasizing on more than one occasion about Hermann's long fingers working him open, making room for the huge cock Newt just knows he's hiding behind those saggy trousers of his because honestly who even wears pants that huge without good reason? At any rate, Newt's been dying to jump on that for _years_. 

Newt shifts in place because yeah, he's definitely getting hard, and he's starting to think in earnest about how much he wants Hermann's cock in his mouth, and the hallway is filling up and Hermann still hasn't moved and oh god he's wracking his brain for the closest place the two of them can be alone.

Hermann is the first one to move. He turns on his heel and walks away. Disappears into the crowd. 

And Newt? Well, Newt is frozen in place and doesn't budge until someone asks if he needs help with directions. 

He finds Hermann in the main poster hall pounding a glass of iced tea at the refreshments table. Newt slides up next to him. 

"Hey uh, dude? We need to talk. Like, yesterday."

Hermann refuses to make eye contact. "We're at a _conference_ , Newton." 

"I know you don't have anything to do right now, Hermann," Newt scoffs, "I sat right across from you at breakfast and watched you highlight our schedules in your program book." 

Hermann doesn't say anything and starts refilling his cup.

Newt quickly looks around— no one nearby— before leaning in and asking, "Hermann, do you actually want to fuck me? You need to be honest because, like, I'm not going to lie, I've been thinking about it for _ages_ and—"

"Newton," Hermann hisses under his breath, "this is not the time nor venue to be discussing this—"

"I didn't mean right here! Jesus, dude." Newt pauses for a moment, considers the still-half-hard dick in his pants, and presses in closer, "there's some empty conference rooms on the second floor...?"

Hermann chokes on his tea. 

It's not fifteen minutes before Newt has Hermann pressed up against the wall of empty conference room 201C, moaning into his mouth while Hermann gropes his ass through his totally-professional too-tight black jeans. The kissing is good. Great, even. Better than Newt had expected. Hermann's an enthusiastic partner. Newt hadn't imagined he would be _so_ into it. He thought that he might have to be a bit more persuasive, a bit more pushy— which seems ridiculous, now, given the way Hermann's definitely gripping bruises into his ass as he holds Newt in place and shoves his thigh between his legs. 

He had wanted to show his repressed lab partner the time of his life, but Hermann seems determined to do the same. Every time he kisses with a bit of force, Hermann kisses back twice as hard. When he sucks Hermann's tongue into his mouth, Hermann retaliates by biting his lip. When he snakes his hand up Hermann's sweater and rubs his nipples over his shirt, Hermann grabs his hips and drags— drags!— Newt's clothed cock along his shaking thigh. 

Newt has to pull away from the kiss and whine into Hermann's neck as he gives in and starts grinding himself against his leg. "Oh fuck," he moans, "oh fuck oh fuck oh—"

" _Be quiet_ , Newton," Hermann says. He sounds a little wrecked, though. He shoves one hand down the back of Newt's pants and uses the other to tilt Newt's chin up and slot their mouths together again. Newt fists handfuls of Hermann's second-nicest suit jacket as he's kissed within an inch of his life. He feels like his knees are going to give out, Hermann's thigh between them might be the only thing holding him up. Might be the only thing keeping him grounded to this fucking plane of reality. "Oh god, Herms," he whines between kisses, "I had no fucking idea." 

Hermann gives a little hum of agreement as he moves to mouth at Newton's jaw and throat. He's resumed his manual assault on Newt's ass, his hand completely inside Newt's boxers. Newt's started humping his thigh in earnest, now. He didn't think he'd be able to come from this, at first (stupid, how absolutely stupid, he doesn't think he's felt anything better in his life) but he can feel his orgasm getting dangerously close now. The little spurts of wetness that have been soaking through his underwear are easing the way, but the friction is still just on the better edge of too much. When Hermann presses a hot, dry finger to his hole and rubs over his rim, it's over, it's done, Newt's coming, tears in his eyes, drooling a bit onto Hermann's shoulder.

It's all a bit embarrassing. More so when Hermann asks, gently, after a moment, if Newton could perhaps remove himself from Hermann's leg, which is starting to hurt. 

"Oh, shit, of course, man," Newt pulls back and winces a bit at the friction of the tight denim on his now-sensitive cock. He quickly pulls a chair over for Hermann, who immediately sinks into it with a sigh.

It's only then that Newt notices the way an adorable red flush sits high on Hermann's cheekbones, the way his chest is heaving like _he's_ the one who just came, the way the front of his pants are still tented beyond belief. _He must be aching_.

He drops to his knees in front of Hermann and looks up with pleading eyes at his lab partner (his _lover_ , now, Newt thinks), and asks a silent question. "By all means," Hermann says, cracking the smallest of smiles. 

Newt grins and buries his face in the fabric between Hermann's legs.

Hermann lets out a groan as Newt starts planting kisses up his length, and Newt wonders if he can feel the warmth of his breath through the thick wool of his trousers. He starts mouthing where the head of Hermann's cock is, and Hermann's hands fly up to cradle the back of Newt's head. 

He runs his fingers through Newt's hair while Newt starts undoing his belt, unbuttoning his pants, pulling his waistband down. Newt has to bite back a moan when Hermann instinctively clenches a fistful of his hair as Newt reveals his cock. 

Newt leans in, just close enough that his exhales hit the glistening wet head of Hermann's cock, and takes a moment to steady his breathing, his heart rate. He knows he's taking too long, but he's been fantasizing about this moment for years. “Oh, Hermann,” he says under his breath, “you look so fucking good.” 

"Newton," Hermann starts. " _Newton_ ," he says again. His voice is strained. 

Newt lets out a breathy laugh. His hands squeeze tight on Hermann's thighs as he moves in and takes the head of Hermann's cock into his mouth.

Hermann jerks, "by jove, Newton, you—"

"Mmm," Newt agrees through a mouthful of cock. Hermann weighs heavy on his tongue. Wide. The stretch is almost uncomfortable. He licks instinctively at the slit. Hot. Salty. Bitter. He should be grossed out, he thinks, but it’s _Hermann_. It’s him and it’s everything he thought it might be and more. He moans again despite himself. 

The vibrations must really do it for Hermann, because one of his hands leaps from Newt’s hair to his own mouth, barely stifling a squeak. Newt brings a hand to the base of Hermann’s cock and starts bobbing his head up and down. He runs his tongue along the underside, dips it into the slit. He can feel Hermann’s hips start to move in stunted, shallow thrusts as he strokes the base of his cock in time with his mouth. Newt looks up at him— Hermann’s face is more flushed than he’s ever seen it, he’s gasping around the hand covering his mouth. His eyes are squeezed closed. That wouldn’t do.

Newt lets Hermann’s cock fall from his lips, and slowly— as if worried about scaring him— reaches a hand up and gently grasps Hermann’s wrist. Hermann’s eyes fly open. “ _Please_ ,” Newt starts— _Please let me hear you. Please let yourself go._

He gently tugs Hermann’s hand down to his own face, holds it to his cheek. Hermann gives a little nod, and Newt lets his hand go and starts sucking him again. 

“ _Newton_ ,” Hermann gasps above him. Yeah, he _absolutely_ sounds wrecked now. It’s all the inspiration Newt needs to open his throat and take him as deep as he can— admittedly not that deep, but it’s the thought that counts. He whines around Hermann’s cock and lets the wet sounds of his mouth become sloppy. Hermann’s groans are so fucking loud, he can hear echoes of “ _ohh, Newton, keep going”_ from the empty room around him. It’s sexy as hell. 

Newt can feel himself getting hard again, despite coming just minutes ago. He shifts in place a bit and almost yells when he feels the seam of his pants press against his trapped cock. He sneaks a hand down and starts palming himself through his jeans. It isn’t going to be enough, but this isn’t really about him and he doesn’t really care— he feels too good. He lets his eyes flutter shut; saliva and precome dripping down his chin, Hermann erratically thrusting into his mouth, fingers tugging on his hair, _god_ he feels so fucking great right now. 

He lets himself get lost in the sensations and doesn’t even realize Hermann is about to come until Hermann traces a trembling thumb over the hollow of his cheek and spills into his mouth with a shout. He sucks him through it and swallows it all down despite the burn because, like, come on, _it’s Hermann_ , and he’s so greedy for it he can barely think.

Newt’s cock gives a pathetic throb in his pants and— oh fuck, he’s reaching down and frantically unbuttoning his jeans, pulling out his flushed erection, and resting his forehead heavily on Hermann’s thigh as he pumps himself in his fist. 

“Newton?” Hermann asks, as he gently runs his fingers through Newt’s hair. Newt doesn’t answer, only gasps harshly. He sees Hermann’s glistening, softening cock right in front of him and remembers the taste, the feel of it in his mouth. “Newton, darling, let me help.” Hermann says, looking down at him softly.

“No— not yet, I,” Newt mutters as he fists himself faster, “I’m so close, I, I—“ 

He comes without warning, a low whine rumbling through him as he shoots ropes of come onto his fist and the conference room floor. 

He doesn’t get up for several long moments, content to just rest his face on Hermann’s thigh, catch his breath as he gazes up at his friend through entirely new eyes. Hermann stays equally quiet, though he cups his jaw and gently rubs his thumb through Newt’s stubble. Newt’s heart clenches— and he looks up at Hermann with a grin. 

“Well this conference just got a _lot_ more fun.”

Hermann returns the smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> It’s probably obvious if u know me but Bone Biology Girl is a self-insert character in the AU where I have a PhD (ง ˙o˙)ว


End file.
